


Little Things

by TrueIllusion



Series: Slices of Life in Schitt's Creek [10]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anxious David Rose, Body Image, Canon Compliant, Feels, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Patrick Brewer loves David Rose, Post-Canon, Very Brief Mention of Past Eating Disorder, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:20:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29390430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueIllusion/pseuds/TrueIllusion
Summary: Patrick was well aware that David’s intense, undying love of all things food-related had once been a source of shame, put on him by someone else and then internalized until it blew up to epic proportions. And he knew that David still struggled with his body image at times -- after all, it was one of the many reasons he chose to dress in baggy sweaters 99% of the time.But that didn’t make it any easier to walk in and see his husband standing in front of the full-body mirror in their bedroom, his sweatpants low on his waist as he poked and pinched at the skin on his hips and belly, brow furrowed and his lips turned down into a tight little frown.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Slices of Life in Schitt's Creek [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1852009
Comments: 28
Kudos: 184





	Little Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PrettyTheWorld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyTheWorld/gifts).



> You've written so many stories for me (that I love!), so when a One Direction song struck me as inspiration for a fic, I couldn’t resist. ;) Hope you enjoy! <3 Love you, my friend. So glad fandom brought us together.

Patrick had heard it referenced before, in the tiny snippets of David’s past life to which he was occasionally granted access, usually in the form of random asides that were more than a bit disturbing. And that was what this had been -- a simple throwaway comment, in David’s eyes. A passing mention that he’d spent some time in eating disorder treatment in his 20s. Like it was no big deal.

Patrick was well aware that David’s intense, undying love of all things food-related had once been a source of shame, put on him by someone else and then internalized until it blew up to epic proportions. And he knew that David still struggled with his body image at times -- after all, it was one of the many reasons he chose to dress in baggy sweaters 99% of the time.

But that didn’t make it any easier to walk in and see his husband standing in front of the full-body mirror in their bedroom, his sweatpants low on his waist as he poked and pinched at the skin on his hips and belly, brow furrowed and his lips turned down into a tight little frown.

“Hey…” Patrick said softly… slowly… approaching David with the caution and care that he wished even just one of David’s past partners would have given him. He wrapped his arms around David’s bare torso, hooking his chin over David’s shoulder. “Everything okay?”

David shrugged and gave a noncommittal hum as Patrick pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, followed by another, then another, slowly tracing his way down David’s shoulder. He pulled his arms tighter around David’s torso, inhaling the familiar scent of the sandalwood and vanilla body milk he always used after a shower.

“God, you’re so sexy,” Patrick purred, pressing his hips closer to David’s ass, seeking friction against the growing tightness in his pajama bottoms as he nibbled David’s earlobe.

Normally, that was a maneuver that David couldn’t resist, but this time, he leaned away, twisting out of Patrick’s arms. “Stop,” he whispered, his desperation evident even in that single word. “Just stop.”

Patrick drew back, his own brow furrowing. “Okay,” he said, keeping his voice calm and even. It wasn’t like David at all to turn down the prospect of sex with his husband, but if he wanted to stop, Patrick would stop -- the last thing he wanted to do was force David into anything he wasn’t 100% on board with. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t concerned. “David, what’s wrong?”

David took a few seconds to respond, shaking out his hands while Patrick fought the urge to reach out and still them. “You don’t have to pretend.”

“Pretend? Pretend what?”

“That you actually _like_ this… this…” David squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, like he was searching for a word, before flailing one hand in the general direction of his body. “All of _this_!”

“What? Why would you think I’m pretending?”

“It’s fine… It’s... nothing.” David shook his head and blinked his eyes open, tears glistening at the corners.

“David, it’s not nothing.” Patrick reached out for his husband, his hands finding their way to David’s biceps in the way they always did when David needed comfort, like their own gravitational pull. “What’s going on?”

“It’s just that… Nevermind.” David started, then stopped, pulling out of Patrick’s grip as he reached for a shirt.

“Did I do something?” Patrick was even more lost now, and desperate to talk about whatever David was avoiding, because pulling away from his touch was very much not David… not at all.

David shook his head as he flipped the switch to turn off the overhead light, leaving the room bathed only in the dim glow from their matching bedside lamps. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

“Clearly it isn’t fine.”

“Let’s just go to bed, okay? I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Patrick sighed, watching as David pulled back the covers and slid between the sheets before settling himself down onto the pillows and feigning sleep in the way he sometimes did when he didn’t want to talk about something.

“David,” Patrick said softly, trying his best to keep the frustration out of his voice. “Please, talk to me. If I did or said something that upset you, I want to know.”

David let out a sigh of his own before blinking his eyes open to look at Patrick with an uneasy gaze. “It’s just that…” he repeated, seemingly needing few seconds to work up his courage to even broach the subject. “The other night, when we were… you know… having sex, and… and you had your hand on my ass, and you said something about… about there being a little bit more to grab, and I… I don’t know, I just… Were you trying to tell me I’m fat? I mean, I know I’ve gained a few pounds since the wedding, and my skinny jeans are a little tight, but I--”

“No, David.” Patrick interrupted, really not wanting to hear his husband -- the beautiful, sexy man he’d married, whose body never failed to make Patrick’s knees weak -- beat himself up any more than he already had. Especially not when it was all Patrick’s fault. “I meant it as a compliment. I _like_ having a little more to grab… I think it’s sexy. _You’re_ sexy.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I think I do, because it’s true. And I’m sorry if ever made you doubt that.” Patrick leaned in and pressed his lips to David’s, lingering an extra beat or two before pulling away. “I love every part of you, David. Because they all add up to the man I’m in love with.”

David blinked and looked up at the ceiling, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he shook his head. “You don’t have to--”

This time, Patrick cut him off with a kiss. “No, I don’t. I _want_ to.” He propped himself up on one elbow and rested his hand on David’s chest, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he felt the rhythm of David’s heart, thrumming along steadily and surely beneath his fingers. “I love the tiny little wrinkles you get by your eyes when you’re really, really happy, even though I know you hate them. I love that little snort you make when you’re trying not to cry. I love laying my head on your stomach when we stay up late talking. I love sneaking my hand into the back pocket of your jeans and feeling the curve of your ass… and yes, it’s softer, but so are _you_ … The hard edges are gone, because they _can_ be… and I love that. All of you. Every little thing. Even the parts you don’t.”

“I don’t recall giving you permission to make me cry,” David said thickly, a stray tear tracing its way down his cheek as he sniffled. “And don’t you dare even _try_ to make me _snort_. I don’t _snort_.”

“You do… but I love it.” Patrick kissed David gently, then reached up to wipe away the tears with his thumb. “Just like I love you.”

***

_I’m in love with you… and all your little things._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to blackandwhiteandrose for getting me unstuck and letting me bounce ideas back and forth, as always.
> 
> Lyrics in italics below the stars are not mine, and are from the One Direction song that I also borrowed the title from. :)


End file.
